


A Song of Departure, A Song of Beginnings

by january_sunshine



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: Feel-good, Feelings, Gen, Lasting Oneness, Light Angst, M/M, background Sumeragi Kira
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:27:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23704585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/january_sunshine/pseuds/january_sunshine
Summary: The silence has been heavy and melancholy all afternoon, and frankly, Ren is tired of it.Another Post-S4E8 fic. MasaRen if you squint, I'm all about that subtext.
Relationships: Hijirikawa Masato/Jinguuji Ren
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	A Song of Departure, A Song of Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> I'd been sitting on this for a while. Figured I may as well post it, even though it's short.

They spend the next few days in near silence. Shining Saotome, on Ren’s request, postpones Masato’s latest TV interview to squash any rumors coming from his family. Ren, thankfully, has nothing planned until he returns from the trip. Sumeragi kindly joins them for dinner for the first night, udon at a small family diner, but he soon returns to the academy, and receives a small hand-embroidered handkerchief from Masato as a thank you for his assistance.

Masato’s phone got cut off the afternoon prior—and he nearly panicked when he realized he had no reception, no actual connection to  _ any _ of his loved ones anymore, no connection to his ailing mother or his sister. He almost fell apart in the hotel room, and Ren slid the phone from his hand and called the fair Hijirikawa matriarch from his own cell. The brokenly whispered ‘ _ I love you, Mother _ ’ wrenches open a strange void in Ren’s own chest, but he stays by Masato’s side until the brief conversation ends and Masato sullenly clams up again. That morning, they awoke to numerous chimes signaling a spam of emojis sent from his little sister. 

As Ren fiddles with a phone game, Masato sits—on his rear, a weird, rare way of sitting for him—legs outstretched, socks bare, on the wooden floor, staring towards the window. The silence has been heavy and melancholy all afternoon, and frankly, Ren is tired of it.

“Masayan,” Ren calls over.

“Hn?”

Masato doesn’t move. His hair, tucked behind his ear, shows his pale, soft jaw line as he gazes. The stress lines that have frequently marred his forehead are relaxed, and it makes him look almost aloof. He isn’t looking at anything in particular, Ren can tell. So Ren chucks his pillow into Masato’s chest, effectively startling Masato into spinning around, pillow in hands, eyes staring like a wild deer. He then glares.

“Masayaaannnn, I’m bored. Let’s go explore.”

The annoyed furrowing of his brows softens as Masato realizes Ren’s intentions, and he sighs, setting the pillow delicately in his lap. He smooths it flat.

“I imagine I have brooded enough in here,” Masato muses.

“I’d say so,” Ren responds with a grin, head propped up on his arm. He sits up better. “Your father’s an ass, doesn’t mean you can spend all day pouting.”

“I was  _ not _ pouting.” But to add insult to injury, as Masato strides over to return the pillow, he opts to whack Ren on the arm with it instead. Masato can’t fight off his own smile, as he turns his head away and tucks falling hair back behind his ear. “I was contemplating.”

“Contemplating the biggest pout a five-year-old could muster. Far better than your little sister’s.”

“I suppose you’re an expert, since you still behave like a child?”

But Masato strides to the doorway where he has his black loafers tucked to the side, and slips each socked foot into their appropriate shoe. He checks his pockets for his wallet, then turns. “I thought you were bored.”

Smirk growing, Ren hops up. They get disguises to be safe, both donning similar black caps and narrow sunglasses, and Masato grabs a face mask for good measure. They walk in the first direction impulse takes them, and reach a shrine they both recognize as a place they’ve played hide and seek around in their youth. Both clap hands and pay their respects. Then, at Ren’s insistence, buy warm, fresh taiyaki from a vendor. He tips them an extra 10 thousand yen to be nice.

“You know, my sister loves these,” Masato muses as he takes a bite. “I shall have to send some to her.”

Ren smiles. “My older brother does, too. But I’m not sending him anything.”

“No?” Masato raises an eyebrow as he takes a bite. Ren’s gaze immediately goes to his lashes, long and gentle, framing his eyes just so.

He shakes it away with a laugh. “He sent me photos last time he’d had any, even though he knows how much I love the custard ones. Truly, really terrible.” And with that, he takes a bite, too hard, custard squirting onto the side of his cheek. Another part drips down the side of his fingers.

“Oh, truly, don’t eat like a savage. You’re far too dainty for that.” Masato bites into his taiyaki just enough to hold it into his mouth, reaching into his pocket for a spare napkin, and upon realizing Ren’s hands are both full, he reaches over to wipe away the mess himself. Ren’s cheeks heat up, and as he looks up from the stickiness on his fingers, he catches the flush growing on Masato’s own cheeks. Masato turns away and moves his hand back, returning it to his first pastry to remove it from his lips. Both boys continue walking in silence.

As peace overtakes the two while they finish their snacks, Ren opts to shake up the silence, glancing towards his roommate. “So, Masayan…”

Masato, who seems absolutely spaced out yet again, doesn’t catch Ren calling his name until Ren bumps his shoulder. He glances over, almost stunned as he realizes it.

“How’s it feel?” Ren asks, a smile playing on his lips.

“How does.. what feel?” Masato asks back, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Your newfound freedom. It’s been twenty-one years, how does it feel?”

Masato is silent for a while. For a moment, Ren honestly thinks he’s upset his friend, as the shorter one’s face takes on an unreadable expression. He seems nearly perplexed by the question, momentarily lost in thought. But a moment later, Ren catches the gentle curling of Masato’s lips turning upright, a shy but eager smile on his lips. “Not so bad, if I’m to be honest,” his voice barely goes above a whisper, as if admitting a secret even to himself. “I… I never thought I would have been given the choice to decide my own path in life. So much of my future had been planned and arranged for me from birth, had been set up and written as another chapter in the Hijirikawa family history album. I merely… grew accustomed to it.”

Ren nods. He understands how that is—that was how his own life had originally begun, how both of theirs had been planned and arranged before they were even born. Until things worked out how he wanted it, until he managed to take the reigns himself. But as he was a rebellious spirit from early on, the free-spirited son filled with resentment, Masato was raised with harsher guidelines and treasured solely to continue their legacy. While his father was not as involved, Masato’s father was almost aggressively present. Thus led to how their paths had varied—where Ren’s hot, burning spirit created a defiant young man, Masato’s even-temper and cool attitude had been sculpted to near unyielding obedience. Red hot, ice cold.

“It feels as if something was lifted from my shoulders,” Masato continues after a moment. “I’m… not sure how long my spirit has been burdening something as heavy as this, but I cannot say that this is a terrible ending. I’ve… for so long, I’ve  _ dreamed _ of this, Jinguji. Just... “

“Being free?” Ren grins.

Masato’s eyes go wide, as if the idea of such a phrase seemed so new. “Yes. It’s freeing, unlike anything I’ve ever felt. My grandfather would be so proud.” And his smile grows, something youthful and soft and unrestrained, one Ren hasn’t seen in a long while. Something inside Ren just melts at the sight. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything,” laughs the younger singer. “All I did was help you get here.”

“Be modest all you like. It’s a novel look for you.” Still smiling, Masato turns to walk away.

“Oh, he’s so light he tells  _ jokes _ now. And they’re  _ funny _ .” 

Ren bumps Masato’s shoulder again and rejoices in the soft chuckle he gets in return.

**Author's Note:**

> Lasting Oneness is honestly a wonderfully underrated song. I hope you're all staying safe!


End file.
